


The boy who leapt through time

by ghostrags



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22170613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrags/pseuds/ghostrags
Summary: After dying in the Azure moon route, Byleth is thrown back to just before the battle at Garreg Mach. He holds few memories, but among the few he retained it was the need to protect Dimitri in any way he could. He forces himself awake at the bottom of that damned cliff and sets off for Fhirdiad.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t easy, none of it was, but Byleth was stubborn if nothing else. From the moment he forced open his eyes, there was a shrill ring in his ears. He knew it was Sothis, in some form, telling him to go to sleep, to stop being foolish and that he would hurt himself. He ignored it.

His memories from before were in shambles and quickly fading. All he knew, is that he failed. He died before he saw Dimitri ascend the throne. He could hardly recall his student’s face but he remembered his voice perfectly. Seared into his brain like brand, a reminder of his failure to his student. How could he not see how tortured Dimitri had been in all those months at Garreg Mach? He could have done something, said something, let the boy know he wasn’t alone and that those cruel voices weren’t-

He needed to get to Fhirdiad. That was the other thing he remembered, the absolute necessity that he get to the capital of Fargus, Dimitri was there and he needed out. That’s all Byleth knew and he would make it happen, damn it. 

Waking up was the hardest part at first, he felt fine afterwards, if a bit beaten from the battle at the Monastery. It didn’t stay that way for long, he knew it wouldn’t. Soon his eyes began to grow heavy, but it was no trouble pushing the alluring hand of sleep away when he had his goal in sight. He thought of Dimitri every time he felt a yawn push itself into his muscles and that was enough to shake any weariness.

He was able to make his way to Fhirdiad mostly by paying fair to any merchants going that way. Byleth made it a point to never lower his hood as he traveled, no need to arise suspicion. He’d also learned not to allow himself rest even in the evening, knowing in his bones that, should he fall asleep he wouldn’t rise until the day before the Millennium festival. In the last stretch of miles before the gates of the city came to view, Byleth made his way on foot.

The next hours were a blur, a terrible, fearful blur. If Byleth possessed a human heart it would have failed him when he heard that Dimitri had been executed, ‘No, there’s no way’ he thought. 

He didn’t question the sudden commotion that broke out in front of the castle, he had a way in now. It was a frantic scramble down unfamiliar halls and impossibly large audience rooms. Byleth wasn’t entirely sure where to even look as men were cut down left and right by the assailants. It was when he heard a familiar baritone voice that he knew to follow the crowd.

Down, down into the depths of the castle, Byleth followed the men that spoke in a foreign tongue, not stopping to wonder why they hadn’t raised their axes to him by now.

More castle guards? Where did they come from? Byleth pushed past the scuffle that would soon prove to be deadly in the narrow halls. Further and further until he came to a deep set oaken door, smashed to smithereens on its hinges, the sound of clashing steel exploding out of the tiny cell.  
It was Dedue, bloodied, but fighting with the most ferocity he’d ever seen on the kind man, even still he would soon be brought to his knees by the mortal savant before him. Byleth drew his blade and struck forward, impaling the man with the quickness gained from years of battle.

In the man’s last moments his body shook and he produced a cruel spell from his fingertips, throwing Dedue to the ground as dark lightning seized his body. Byleth rushed down, drawing up his hand to summon a healing spell he’d used for his students hundreds of times before, but instead he felt sharp needles pierce his fingertips in revolt. ‘No use’ he thought, ‘divine pulse it is’

Again he felt his body twist in on itself in some form of protest. It felt as though splinters skewered ever muscle in his body, forcing an anguished cry from his lungs,

“Why?” the former mercenary asked, must he fail his students over and over again no matter what course he takes? the strain of over exertion was still present in his mournful question, was this punishment for refusing to let his body rest?

Almost in response, Dedue’s weakening grip on his arm pulled Byleth back to the situation at hand, “His highness…” he rasped, gesturing to a heap of cloth in the corner of the cell

He’d mistaken Dimitri for a pile of clothes in the fray, his face and hair were streaked with blood, tinting the fair locks a deep crimson and his mouth seemed stuffed with some kind of cloth.

` Byleth knew what Dedue wanted of him. He grit his teeth at the thought, wasn’t there some other way? The growing intensity of voices in the hall told him otherwise. Byleth’s fingers tightened on Dedue’s shoulder, there was so much to say, he wanted to scream, yet again he was forced to watch a loved one’s life slip through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it,

“I’ll keep him safe” 

Byleth’s ears were ringing so much louder now. They rang as he unlocked Dimitri’s shackles with a key he’d scavenged off the guard’s body. They rang as he cut away the gags. They rang as he forced Dimitri up by his arms and dragged him away from the dying body of his closest friend. They rang, but just not loud enough to drown out the cries and pleads that they go back. Byleth hoped that Dimitri couldn’t feel how hard he was shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

They hadn’t spoken since they managed to slip out of the city, there was a silence between them that ran so thick one could drown in it. Byleth lead them far from the city, trekking through the frost kissed fields that stretched beyond the capital and Dimitri followed wordlessly.

Byleth’s troubled mind offered a type of respite from the drowsiness that tortured him on his journey up, but he would never be used to the towering feelings of regret and inadequacy that stormed in his mind. These emotions, still foreign in their potency to the man, reminded him too much of the weeks after his father’s death. He failed his gentle friend, maybe if he had arrived earlier or pushed past the pain. No, there wasn’t any use in ruminating over that now, he needed to save his energy for Dimitri.

With his thoughts back to the young prince, he took a moment to gauge their distance from the capital, they must have been 6 miles away from the city. He cast a glance behind him, Dimitri looked haggard, clutching the thin cloak Byleth had used to conceal his hair around his shoulders. Whoever was keeping the boy dressed him in ill fitting rags that could hardly be referred to as clothes, it made him look small, that was likely the intention. The left side of his was bandaged heavily, the sight called flashes of memories to the front of the professor’s mind, it jarred him the mixed nature of the emotions brought up by the fragments. They should stop soon.

He waited until they came to a spars treeline and found a suitable campsite, a trio of young cedar trees, crowded around a tall slate stone, ‘This’ll have to do’ he thought, hoping they would be shielded from the bitter gales in the night.

“We’ll stop here for the night” he said finally, unfastening his cape from the bottom of his shoulder plates and laying it on the ground at the foot of the slate tower. The other silently complied.

He let Dimitri rest while he gathered kindling and loose firewood. He took the chance to note spots that might prove fruitful should he set a snare, he had left his small bundle of field provisions with Dimitri, prompting him to eat, the shortbread was meant to be eaten on the battlefield and would barely satisfy the need for a single meal, but judging from looks alone, he’d guess the prince hadn’t been fed for quite some time. Anything would help.

When Byleth returned he set to making the fire straight away, piling the tinder and striking a stray hunk of flint he was able to come by against the flat of his armored forearm, sending sparks into the dried detritus. He quickly bent down onto his elbows, cupping his hands around the delicate embers and softly blowing into the base of the tent. The monotony of the task was almost enough to forget the gaze trained on his body as he worked. Byleth sat back on his knees, placing the little wood he was able to find the way his father taught him so many years ago.

Byleth sat back and monitored the fire, making certain the flames grew strong and weren’t snuffed out. His eyes flickered across the fire and to Dimitri, knees curled up to his chest, finding the empty pocket satchel he’d left and finding a bit of comfort in knowing he had at least helped to curb his student’s hunger. They sat silently for a long while, until the crisp blue sky began to darken, before Dimitri suddenly spoke,

“You left him” the younger said, his voice vacant of any edge he might have tried to conjure up, but breaking and failing him nonetheless

Byleth met his student’s gaze, but said nothing. He knew this was coming and he would bear it.

“You LEFT him there!” his voice rose in agitation “In- in that place! How could you?” Dimitri’s hands and struck down and twisted into the cape he sat on

The boy stood suddenly, he was shouting now, still raspy from the screaming he had done earlier that day“You monster! After he’d come all that way and you just-” he threw his arms out “It’s like you didn’t even care!”

“Say something, damn you” he spat, staring down with half realized hatred dancing in his uncovered eye, the other steadily holding eye contact, refusing to back down despite how the pained words cut into him

Byleth swallowed down the rock that had formed in his throat and steadily replied “You know that I would have dragged him out with us if I thought I could, Dimitri” his voice was low and dangerous, hiding the shame that had been gnawing at him in his mind

Dimitri’s jaw trembled and he took a step backwards, the fire gone from his eye as quickly as is came, replaced instead with the prickling of bitter tears. His legs shook and he collapsed to the ground, pulling his knees in and burying his fingers in his hair.

Byleth took a moment before he spoke again, afraid to disrupt the fragile state in front of him, “I was able to sneak in among the commotion started by an insurgent group” he began slowly, “I expect Dedue was with them” the other man’s shoulders suddenly stopped shaking, though his head stayed against his knees, “We were ahead of a fight in the halls...I’m not sure who won, but-”

Dimitri’s head shot up, eyes searching his professor’s face for confirmation of what he was suspecting, “y-you’re saying there’s a chance…?”

Byleth nodded slowly, not trusting his own voice. Dimitri turned his eye to the fire, a silence falling among the two again once again, broken only by the quiet snapping of the burning logs,  
“I’m sorry professor I just…” Dimitri began, his words suddenly catching in his throat “I don’t know what- I just- I” his voice pitched up in shame as tears reappeared in his eye

“I know” he said quietly, sincerely 

The former mercenary got up and moved to settle beside his student, “Let me see your face” immediately he earned a look that told him he would receive a protest to which he asked again, his plea open in his voice, “You’re hurt, please”

The other surrendered, his shoulders falling slack. Byleth gently guided Dimitri’s head into his lap, delicately pulling back the messy bandages. He was able to suppress the breath that caught in his throat when he saw the state his student was left in. Byleth used his water skin to wet the clean edges of the bundled up bandages before guiding his hand down to wipe away the blood. Before he even made contact, the body below him flinched away, prompting him to steady his hand, drawing it back. He waited for Dimitri to settle and then slowly started to clean around his eye.

The damage seemed mostly superficial, but he couldn’t know for sure. Byleth slowly raised his hand, calling forth a healing spell that wouldn’t do much in the way of healing, but would relieve any pain. He hoped that he would be able to muster up the magic in his state seeing as this spell would demand less than the one he tried using before. 

He felt his muscles ache suddenly, but there was no sign of the crippling pain he felt before, though he struggled to keep his hand held up. He stole himself after feeling Dimitri’s body relax and seeing his eyebrows unpinch, continuing to pour what little bit of magic he had left in his body into the one below him. His strength quickly gave out, forcing him to stop.

Absentmindedly, Byleth wove his fingers into Dimitri’s hair, in a silent effort to comfort the other. He’d never held someone so intimately before and hoped that his gesture was received well. Seeing no resistance, he slowly began drawing the knots out, gently running the dried blood from his fair strands. Dimitri turned his body, eyes still closed peacefully, onto his side so that he was facing into his professor’s stomach. Byleth resumed running his hands through those golden locks and Dimitri slower drew his knees in until he was curled around Byleth like a child. They stayed like this until the evening sky was high above their heads and Dimitri had surrendered himself to sleep’s embrace. Even still, Byleth continued to pet his hair, staring down with a gentleness few would ever see from him.


End file.
